


Working Backwards, Moving Forwards

by snapbackbuddies



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Stabbing, Whump, deputy saves jacob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapbackbuddies/pseuds/snapbackbuddies
Summary: "Oh, my god. Oh my god." Jacob's eyes flutter. He doesn't remember when he closed them. When he manages to turn his gaze up, eyes lidded and head heavy on his shoulders, the sight makes him laugh."Well, I'll be," he pants. "One last look at Deputy Rook."
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	Working Backwards, Moving Forwards

**Author's Note:**

> i decided i wanted to whump a seed brother so i did. the working title of this was "harm the daddie" and if i'm not careful i'm gonna start unironically calling jacob daddy
> 
> this is jacob/dep but you better believe it's setting up rook dating all of the seeds. i did leave out faith this time )-:
> 
> anyways hope you enjoy!!

Jacob spits blood onto the grass.

Fucking Pratt. Abusive parents, a fire, juvie, the fucking Gulf War, being stranded in the desert for two weeks and doing the goddamn unspeakable, and it's a pathetic Deputy wildly slamming his own knife into his gut that takes him out.

Jacob had stared at him in disbelief, agony sparking instantly through him. Pratt had stared back, crazed and chaotic, then yanked Jacob's knife out of its new sheath in his gut. The serrated edge tore him up. He'd choked and lurched forward, scrabbling for Pratt. He was Jacob fucking Seed, he'd been hurt worse than this, and there was no reason for him not to kill Deputy Pratt for what he'd done.

He'd fumbled, though. Couldn't grab hold of Pratt anywhere as he took rapid steps back, still wide-eyed. Jacob had fallen to his knees. "Coward," he'd spat, his hands coming to clutch the wound in his stomach. Blood had coated his hands instantly.

At that rate of blood loss, they both knew he didn't have a chance.

Pratt had stepped forward again, pressed Jacob's knife to his shuddering throat, stolen his radio, and snapped, "Not anymore." He bolted for the treeline, the red handle of Jacob's hunting knife still clutched tight in his fist.

There was nothing for Jacob to do but slump forward and dig his palms into his gut. Blood gushed all over the bottom half of his shirt, onto his thighs, over his wrists.

It hasn't been long, but he can feel himself fading already. He wonders if Pratt twisted the knife to get him to bleed this much and he just didn't notice the extra pain. Jacob blinks and spits again. Wonders if he should be praying. Joseph and John would pray for him if they were here. Joseph would cry, probably. Fuck, he doesn't want to think about that.

The bloody grass in front of him blurs. He takes a shaky breath. Maybe he should lay down. Then again, it's harder to apply pressure laying down. He presses tighter into himself.

"Oh, my god. Oh my god." Jacob's eyes flutter. He doesn't remember when he closed them. When he manages to turn his gaze up, eyes lidded and head heavy on his shoulders, the sight makes him laugh.

"Well, I'll be," he pants. "One last look at Deputy Rook."

She's stopped a few feet away from him, her t-shirt and jeans covered in dirt and grass-stains. There's a few tears in her jeans, but no blood. She hasn't run into any trouble like him, but she still looks a mess, like she came crashing through the woods running from something. "Oh my god," she says again, inching closer. "Jacob. What… holy shit, you are…"

Jacob's eyes drift shut. "I am." He tries to swallow, and it's too thick, so he spits blood again. "Good you're here, actually. Can you pass…." His vision goes spotty for a moment. "A message on to Joseph?"

Rook is kneeled in front of him now. "Quiet. Let me see it." Jacob's head lolls forward as he tries to comprehend what the fuck she's doing. "Let me see it," she insists, loud, losing her patience.

Jacob takes one hand from his gut on pure instinct at her insistence, leaning back haphazardly onto his elbow. She guides his other hand from it, quick and rough. "What are you doing?" he slurs, smacking at her invading hands, trying to get a hold on her wrist. His fingers fumble too much, weak from blood loss.

"Trying to keep you from dying," Rook snaps, pushing irritably at his searching hands and blood-soaked t-shirt. She rucks it up to his pecs and bites her lip once she can see the wound properly. "Fuck. What fucking happened to you?"

She's not really talking to him. "Pratt," he huffs anyway, knocking his head back and panting.

"Good for him," Rook mutters. "He's gonna kill me when he finds out I'm trying to save your life."

"Lucky… for you, you probably won't," Jacob says, breath coming hard and slow between his words. "Not gonna be… conscious much longer."

Rook throws her backpack to the ground at her side, yanks something bright yellow out of it. A first aid kit, Jacob supposes. "Oh, I don't think so," she growls, dumping sharp-scented alcohol onto a sterile patch of gauze. "I did not go through all of your fucking trials just to have you die before you can watch me tear your cult to the ground." She cleans the wound rough and methodic. He flinches but doesn't make a noise. "Fucking bastard. The whole lot of you." She tosses the gauze aside and scrambles around her kit for a needle and thread. She has another chunk of gauze pressed tight into his gut to stem the bleeding while she does. "I should just kill you now and make it easy for myself, but instead I'm gonna save your life, and you're probably gonna kill me for it."

Jacob grunts, tries to breathe normally. "Just… tell Joseph that… that I—"

"Save it," she snaps. "I don't want to hear it. Just. Shut up and let me fix this."

Jacob closes his mouth, less obedient and more exhausted. She takes the gauze away, and it's damn near soaked through. The needle is threaded already, but Jacob's not sure if he zoned out while she did it or if it was already like that. She dumps some alcohol over the needle and gets to work. It doesn't take long.

He's really not going to make it conscious much longer. The deputy is fumbling with the wrapper for a big adhesive bandage, and his vision is dappling black at the edges. The blood loss is either finally getting to him or there's something else.

Jacob shoots his hand out, ends up clutching her thigh, muscles weak. "Thank you," he grunts, and his elbow gives out where he's holding himself up as he passes out. He hears Rook yelp and lurch forward, then it's light's out.

/

He wakes up in an unfamiliar room.

Fluorescent lights flicker above him. A scratchy sheet surrounds him, wrapped around him with his arms tucked in to his sides under it. He shifts on the cot, knocks his head to the side to examine the concrete walls and well-stocked shelves and dried blood on the floor. A bunker. Natalie's?

Metal clatters somewhere behind him. "Damn it," Rook mutters. A smile comes to his lips immediately.

"Always this clumsy?" he rasps.

"Jesus Christ!" Rook cries, and more metal clatters. "Christ, warn a woman, would you?"

Jacob clears his throat and readjusts his shoulders. "Blasphemous, Rook. Joseph wouldn't like that. Gonna have to get used to that."

Rook steps around from behind him to kneel at his side. She's wearing the same clothes, but her skin is clean and her hair is damp like she cleaned herself up quick in a sink, maybe. She gives him a… he's not sure how to describe it. She gives him a careful look, guarded somehow, but there's something else there. "You make it sound like I'm gonna be spending time with him," she says, and almost makes it sound conversational as she gets a replacement bandage ready. He starts to wiggle his arms free and she says, "Hey, stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let me do it."

Jacob stills. She pulls the sheet down and pushes his shirt up again. His bandage is soaked, and she starts to peel it off slowly as he speaks. "Y'know, I appreciate everything, Dep, but don't tell me you brought me to your safehouse." 

"I'm not an idiot," she snipes under her breath, dabbing his stitches clean delicately before she presses the new bandage over them. "I just took you to one I knew of nearby. Excuse the blood all over the floor, some Peggies decided to kill the couple that used to live here."

Jacob doesn't dignify that with a response. He won't pretend that their followers don't do those things. He doesn't necessarily endorse it, but he has a feeling saying that to Rook won't do all that much. The weak have their purpose. Natalie hates to hear it, even though she must know somewhere deep down that it's true. She must know she's stronger than all these people— that's why she's still alive, and they're dead. It's not luck.

Now, him? That's a different story. He should've died, would have died. He thought he was strong, but in the end that weak sonofabitch Pratt had gotten the jump on him. If Rook was smart, she'd have let him die there, but strong and smart don't always coincide.

Rook's radio crackles to life. "Deputy, it's been a while since I've seen one of my silos go up in flames," John's voice purrs. "Don't tell me my older brother's been keeping you busy. Starving in a cage, are you?"

Jacob tips his head back and laughs. It hurts, pulls his wound a little. Rook rolls her eyes. She rocks back to her feet and stands, paces over to the farthest corner from Jacob. He's not sure why. He could still shout and be heard if he wanted to, obviously, but he'll play along for now.

Rook brings the radio to her face. "Thanks for the concern, Johnny," she says, and Jacob almost laughs again. Oh, she knows just how to press all of John's buttons. "It's nice to know you worry."

"Mm." John's voice has gone a little tighter, but it's difficult to know why without seeing his face. Could be frustration, but Jacob also knows how John is. "It may come as some surprise to you, Deputy, but I don't want to see you dead." Rook's eyebrow shoots up. "I have yet to get my hands on you properly. I intend to." Her eyes cut to Jacob for some reason. He tilts his head at her. Rook scowls and turns her back to him.

"Tempting as it sounds, I'm afraid I'd rather not let you carve shit into my skin."

"It will hurt," John admits. "I'll make it… worth it."

Jacob stares at the back of Rook's head. John's got it fucking _bad._

Rook sets her forehead against the bunker wall and hesitates before responding. "I'm sure you will, John." She pauses, then turns to lean back against the wall instead, levelling her calm look on Jacob. "Speaking of Jacob, are things still holding up in the Whitetails?"

John is quiet for a moment too long. "I thought you were— Why?" He pauses. "What's going on with Jacob?" Jacob feels his heart pulse a little. He forgets how smart John is, sometimes. He doesn't always act like it, so impulsive and erratic. Jacob forgets his long-lost little brother is a lawyer; Jacob changed his fucking diapers. "Deputy. What's going on with Jacob?"

Jacob licks his lips and watches Rook open and close her mouth a few times. Talked herself into a corner. He's ready to open his mouth and shout for John whenever Rook presses the button to speak, but they're interrupted.

"John," Joseph says urgently over the same frequency. "Have you heard from Jacob? Have you heard from him in the past few hours?"

John stutters, thrown off guard. "I— No, no, I— What happened? Is he okay?"

"I've just been told he's dead, and none of his Chosen have heard from him in hours, and I'm– I'm worried– that Deputy Pratt wasn't just trying to upset me." Joseph sounds distressingly close to tears. Jacob's struggling to sit up. He's gonna rip that radio out of Rook's hand and tell his brothers he's alive even if it tears his stitches apart.

John chokes. "I'm– Natalie, you— Are you still there? What were you saying about— Is he dead?"

"Give me the fucking radio," Jacob snarls as Rook rushes to his side, trying to push him back to laying down. He swipes for her radio as she shushes him, struggling to keep him down and keep the radio out of his reach. "Give me the fucking—!"

Rook leans away from him suddenly and speaks into the radio as he's still snatching after her. "For God's— _Stop it,_ " she hisses to Jacob, not even bothering to lift her thumb from the button, "Fucking hell. Don't spread it around unless you want to find me dead, but Jacob is fine, okay? He's fine. I… spoke to him just a minute ago." Jacob sneers at her.

"Are you… with Jacob?" Jacob's sneer goes wolfish and wide. Joseph is perceptive, too.

Rook sighs heavily and sinks her face into her hands. "Fuck," she mutters, and shoves the radio at Jacob carelessly.

"I'm fine," Jacob rasps into the radio, smirking at Rook's slumped form. She's kneeled down now, face buried in her forearms at his side. He hesitates, then reaches out to stroke her hair as he speaks. She flinches hard under his hand, then goes limp again as he keeps up with it. "Pratt tried to kill me, thought he succeeded. Don't go teary on me."

"Oh, thank God," John sighs. Rook's hand curls around the edge of his cot. Jacob licks his lips as he eyes her white knuckles.

Joseph's voice is relieved. "I didn't want to believe it was God's time for you yet," he murmurs. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah, thanks to Deputy Rook," he chimes, grinning. She snaps her head up and smacks at his bicep. He snorts and presses a hand to her shoulder to keep her at bay. She scowls, but apparently doesn't want him to hurt himself, so she doesn't fight it. "Fuckin' Pratt disembowled me, if you want someone to take vengeance out on. Rook found me."

"Rook… saved you?" John sounds hesitantly hopeful.

"This is her radio," Jacob rumbles. His hand is settled on the back of her neck now, gentle but firm. "Pratt took mine. That's how he called you, Joseph."

"You're in a room together? And you're not fighting?"

Jacob grins. "Awh, she's nursin' me back to health," he coos.

"Shut up," she growls, before he even takes his finger off the button. He lifts his thumb and his eyebrow. "I'll rip out your stitches and leave you here to die."

"You like me too much," he taunts. She bares her teeth. Jacob's eyes drop to it. He'd tempted to take his hand from her neck and bring it to her mouth, curl his fingers around her jaw and set his thumb to her lip. Tug her upper lip gently up and examine her canines like she's one of his Judges.

Joseph's voice brings him back to the present, blinking slowly as he directs his absent gaze toward the radio. "I'm glad the two of you are getting along," he says, sincere and soft. "And Natalie… I'm glad you allowed God to guide your actions. You chose the right thing, despite what those around you must be telling you. To follow the word of God, despite the rejection of Him by those around you, is the most Faithful of all actions. You're worthy to lead the Flock at our side, and the day you do, Eden will only be that much closer."

Rook sighs, rolls her eyes skyward affectedly. Jacob squeezes the nape of her neck in warning. He doesn't believe, either, but she better watch her tongue if she wants to stay in Joseph's good graces.

Well. That might be bullshit. Joseph seems convinced of her greatness no matter what. _No one is beyond saving_ , he reminds Jacob every time Rook makes him lose his temper. _Despite all she has done, she must still walk through Eden's Gate at our side._

She did save his life. Besides, Jacob's done worse things than her.

"...Thanks, Seed," Rook says, reaching for the radio, belated and awkward. "But I didn't do it for God. And I sure as hell didn't do it to lead your Flock."

Joseph hums. "Maybe those weren't the things you intended when you saved my brother's life, but you did it nonetheless. And I thank you for it."

John butts in. "Where are you?" His voice is stern. Jacob's not sure if he's talking to him or Rook, but it amuses him either way. Either way, it means he's on the verge of sending his entire squad of Chosen to their location to kidnap them both.

Rook shrugs, smug because he's clueless on that front. Jacob rolls his eyes. "Bunker in the Whitetails," he says, plucking the radio from her fingers. "Don't know where. Passed out on the way in." Jacob squints at Rook suddenly, speaks to her off the radio. "Hey, how the hell did you get me down here?"

"It's a secret," she says dryly. He raises his eyebrows. "I have a truck, dumbass. And I'm stronger than I look."

"Your hunters can find you, I'll give the order," John suggests.

Rook reaches forward to poke the speak button. "Leave it, John. I was magnanimous and saved your brother's life even though he starved me and kept me in captivity. Give me a minute before you cut me up and keep me in captivity."

"Let them be, John," Joseph instructs. "You'll be guided to her when the time is right."

Rook snorts. "Guided," she mutters, pulling back gingerly from Jacob, standing, rubbing her face. "They hunt me down and shoot me full of Bliss 'til I can't stay conscious, but sure. Guided."

"Fine," John puffs. "Glad you're okay, Jacob. Let me know when you're back to the Veteran's Center."

"Yeah. I will."

"Rest, Jacob. I love you." 

Jacob smiles, just a little, and strokes his finger absently over the side of the radio. "Love you too, Joseph. See you soon." He goes to pass her radio back to Rook, careful not to stretch his arm too far and hurt himself.

She's pacing, though, rubbing her hand over her mouth. Jacob lowers his arm, stares at her. "What?"

Rook shakes her head, pauses, shakes it again. "Nothing," she mutters, pressing her index finger to the seam of her lips, "nothing." She taps her finger to her mouth, then forces a light expression. "Ah, I'll grab you some water before you get back to sleep. I'll make sure it's not infected overnight and then I'll drop you back at the Veteran's Center tomorrow for your followers to deal with you."

Jacob hesitates, watching her, then nods. "Alright. Tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i would love it if you left a kudos & comment!!
> 
> find me on tumblr @stacispratt !!


End file.
